


getting up and going on

by simplekalzone



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Gay, I wrote this to cope, Light Angst, M/M, References to Depression, So..., alex has a hard time getting out of bed, alex is the angst, and cuddle, and they love each other, but - Freeform, he's growing, in love <3, no editing aka many typos, they kiss!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplekalzone/pseuds/simplekalzone
Summary: George let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. His face was more flushed than usual."Alex, you don't need to thank me for, for being your mate."(friends to lovers, alex is always anxious but george is always there, and they discover that they love each other! for fun, per usual!!)
Relationships: George Andrew/Alex Elmslie
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	getting up and going on

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a hot minute since i've posted.. blame school ):-(
> 
> y'all... this was supposed to be short and sweet, capped at 2k words... i just don't know how to Stop.
> 
> was writing a completely different 'pass notes via textbook' au but just stopped at 8k words. and this was born instead because i was sad and tired and basically i used alex to vent <3 but dw it gets so fluffy, cause i'm just too optimistic and no one deserves sadness forever
> 
> just tw// anxiety and some depression

Deep within himself, Alex knew he was going to get up.

He knew as soon as he wearily opened his eyes, slowly awakening from his sleep. He knew he would, even though the blanket weighed him down and the sensible thoughts of the day swept back into him. It seemed as though even the atoms inside understood the inevitable; they sulked in numb silence instead of screaming at him, urging him to stay down.

Because every morning, without fail, Alex managed to roll out of bed and go on with his day. Not because he was strong, definitely not. It was a duty, a responsibility, a habit. The sun rose in the morning, the cars rushing by below honked, and Alex Elmslie's feet hit the bare floor and led him to the bathroom.

So yes, Alex was going to get up. He was.

It was just going to take a little while.

He stared ahead at the ceiling. It was bleak and gray and terribly boring. He really ought to get up now, he thought distantly. He was just wasting time, letting the day go by with nothing to account for except the details of a ceiling he stared at too often.

His foot twitched. He felt his arms rise and fall on his stomach, really felt their heaviness. But no movement was made to actually move. 

_'Okay, here's what we're gonna do. On the count of three, I'm just gonna sit up, BOOM, really quickly. No time to think, no time to not do it.'_

He closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose. 

_'One, two, thr--,'_

Nope. Alex let go of the breath he was unintentionally holding, cursing himself in the silence. What was stopping him, what was so fucking hard about getting--,

Having to get ready and look presentable. Having to sit in front of his fucking computer and edit his video from yesterday. Having to sit through the unbearable plight of watching oneself talk and laugh and try to be funny. Scrutinizing every look, turn, syllable. Breathing in short, desperate spurts as the first few comments rolled in, giving their thoughts and feelings. Texts from mates that piled unanswered, one after the other. Calls that he watched die away in front of him, paralyzed in fear. The lady he had to pass on his way to the shops, who always fucking looked at him like he stumbled out of a sewers, or worse, the woman who practically pinched his cheeks and commented about how friendly he was, with his bellowing laugh and wide smile--

Footsteps outside of his room, walking softly yet steadily towards the living room, and by default the kitchen. They halted outside of Alex's door for one second, then two, then they were gone, back to marching away.

George. Just the name alone was enough to slow Alex's spiral. George was here and Alex wasn't alone with his thoughts. He continued to lie under his enormous blanket as he listened to George begin his day. Alex heard him turn the television on, cursing loudly when it blared the commentary of an old football match. When he turned the volume back down, to a level Alex could no longer hear, Alex felt himself smile for the first time that morning. George.

Before he could completely process it, Alex slipped out of bed and began his journey to the shower.

Because it didn't feel like a trial as much anymore. He had forgotten why he had to get up and remembered why he _wanted_ to. 

They had gotten pizza for dinner last night; George had written out Alex's lines and held them up for him as he shakily ordered a large pepperoni pizza for them to share. He laughed loudly when Alex told him it tasted much better when you fought so hard for it (he shook for a couple minutes after he hung up the phone, but that didn't even compare to the anguish in his heart). George told him he would save the last few slices for Alex for breakfast. 

George laid out the plan of his next main channel video while they watched the commercials in between a game (Alex had convinced him to watch the T.V with him, which actually didn't take too much convincing despite George's boasts about never indulging in the telly). 

"Maybe we could start filming tomorrow." George wondered aloud, stifling a yawn.

"We?" Alex asked incredulously, nudging into George's side playfully. "Awfully bold of you to assume I want to help."

George snorted. "I'd force you anyway." 

Alex beamed. They planned to make a pit stop on their way to the store to get something essential to George's video.

Before they parted ways to their separate rooms, Alex remembered the way in which he leaned against George. While it was by no means a regular occurrence, for Alex and George to be touchy, Alex felt no nervousness curling up to his best mate. Instead, he sighed with content when George (after sitting still for a few seconds) draped his arm around Alex, successfully enclosing him in his space.

Alex couldn't tell you what George smelled like, even with his nose smushed up to George's side. Instead, he was enveloped in strong senses of warmth, heaviness, and security. And that smelled better than any shampoo or cologne.

He slid out of his room, hair still damp and clothes haphazardly thrown on. The phone clutched in his hand still bright from when he checked the time a few seconds before, hoping he could still eat those slices of pizza for breakfast.

10:00 a.m. He had smiled (for the second time that morning!) when it registered. Waking up before noon, George had once told him, was a victory in itself. This was during a period where George had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, playing some first person shooter, out with a mate, scrolling twitter. Waking up before noon signaled that he had gone to bed earlier.

Hearing George scurry across the kitchen showed Alex that they were both victorious today.

"Morning." Alex said lowly, his voice hoarse from lack of use. 

George spun around, smiling at Alex from the counter. A quick glance let Alex know he was using their coffee machine. Alex involuntarily crinkled his nose in disgust, moving to stand in front of their refrigerator.

"It's good, okay?" George defended. Although facing the machine again, Alex felt a pointed gaze his way, like being assessed by a concerned parent, one who was just waiting for their child to throw their next tantrum.

But that wasn't true, because George didn't treat him like a never-ending ticking time-bomb. Overthinking and overanalyzing were rabbit holes, no matter how irrational.

How ironic, to be so aware of the foolishness of one's thoughts and still feel them so deeply.

"Yeah, if you like burnt tears, I guess." Alex drawled out, giggling lightly when George scoffed. He opened the fridge, easily spotting the greasy pizza box amongst the few and scattered items.

Once the box ended up on the table, Alex stared at the last two pieces, wondering if he should microwave them or eat them cold. Ultimately he opted to eat them cold, as it wasn't much different and less effort was required. When he began to move over towards a seat, George suddenly clapped his hands together loudly.

"Alex, wait, bring it over to the couch. I forgot to tell you last night, I found out that Pulisic was playing this morning."

"Fuck, really?" Alex asked, swiftly walking towards the couch.

"Yeah." George answered, abandoning his coffee to skip over to the couch as well, grabbing the remote excitedly. He looked over at Alex, who was nestled into the couch. "He's a wicked player." 

Alex nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite out of the smaller slice. "And he's wickedly attractive."

George snorted but didn't reply, letting Alex sink into the comfortable silence. After a few seconds, his peaceful smile morphed into a grimace as he remembered what he had to do before the day was over. Filming, editing, posting, interacting. All while being much too aware of how people around him perceived him. An exhausting day, which could be easier if he didn't waste precious time by watching some stupid football game--,

George fell back onto the couch, side bumping into Alex's. His thoughts cut off abruptly, like a switch being flipped. He opened his eyes again and looked over to George.

He was staring ahead at the game (that had started minutes ago), hair slightly disheveled and blue eyes reflecting the running players. Alex noticed he was wearing some of his own merchandise, a particular comfy looking Obamaland sweatshirt, coupled with standard basketball shorts. 

Like the epitome of relaxation. 

Alex almost opened his mouth, almost spilled out the reckless stream of thoughts that repeated through his brain. But George looked so goddamn _peaceful_. And he had heard it all before, whether in the form of throat-aching screams, soft whispers, or tears on that very same sweatshirt. 

So instead of any of that, Alex scooted over and pushed himself into George's side.

He kept his head angled towards the screen, wanted to see Pulisic play even if he felt slightly guilty about it. George shuffled around so that Alex was comfortably situated against his chest, with an arm draped across his side. Alex was no longer an outsider, awed by the warmth of George; he was now apart of it. And even though thoughts still swirled around in his mind, he couldn't help but feel so goddamn _peaceful_ wrapped up in George.

"You okay?" He heard whispered above him.

Alex grunted in response, not sure if he answered yes or no. Not sure if he was or not.

George began to stroke his side gently, like he was petting him. Alex should stop being so surprised that all of George's movements were comforting.

"Wanna go back to bed?"

Alex's breathing hitched. "I, I can't. I've got too many... too much to do. I can't." He breathed into George's side.

"One thing at a time, Al. What's first?" George whispered. Alex could feel him looking at him, but Alex couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze.

Alex didn't want to dwell on it too long, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. "Shopping."

"You don't have to come with, you know. I'm a big boy!"

Alex removed himself from George's side, turning on the couch to face him instead. He smiled at him weakly, appreciating the little jokes. "I know it's stupid and unnecessary and honestly, is going to make me even more stressed, but... I want to go shopping. With you." He felt his cheeks redden slightly, hating the way he articulated his thoughts. How fucking weird was it, to tell your mate you really wanted to shop with him?

Alex watched as George's lips quirked up into a small smile. "What else do you want to do today?"

"I have to edit my video, answer my emails, call that guy back about the merch... eat lunch, dinner. It, it doesn't sound like much at all, I know I'm, like, overreacting." He mumbled, shame filling his chest. His daily agenda always seemed so fucking suffocating, but when he said it aloud... he felt rather stupid. 

_'Not stupid!'_ He reminded himself adamantly. _'Feelings aren't stupid.'_

"Hey, you aren't overreacting." George retorted, nudging Alex playfully. "And I didn't ask you what you _had_ to do, I asked you what you _wanted_ to do. Three things."

Alex huffed in annoyance, not wanting to stray from his looming responsibilities. "Fine. I... want to go shopping with you, I want to help you film the video you talked about yesterday, and I, uh," He pointed to the T.V screen vaguely. "I wanna watch this game with you."

"Awesome, then let's--,"

"Wait, I just thought of a fourth one." 

George broke out into a large smile, rolling his eyes in what would have been genuine annoyance if not for the previously mentioned smile. It made Alex flutter inside. "Fucking, go for it."

"I also want to take a nap."

____________________

Alex never ended up taking a nap. He also never got to answer all of his emails, or call the merchandise guy about his sweatshirt collection. 

But he accomplished so much, including but not limited to editing his fucking video, shopping with George, and texting his mom about his week. 

It had been an hour or so since Alex and George had eaten dinner, and they were both hanging out in George's room: George on his bed scrolling through his phone, Alex perched on his chair watching him (and his phone, but mostly George). He looked quite lovely, spread out loosely and wrapped in his covers. Laughing occasionally, smiling a lot. The desire to wrap himself up with him struck through Alex as always, but stronger than ever.

Their conversation had drifted on and off, mumbling about their day or something they encountered on their timelines. Mostly, they sat in silence together.

"Thank you." He blurted.

George hummed a questioning sound softly, glancing up at Alex. Alex felt embarrassed, feeling like he had been caught staring at his mate. He looked away quickly.

"What'd you say?" George asked, still scrolling.

"I-I just said, uh, thank you." He stuttered, pulling his sleeves over his hands. 

"Thank you? For what?" George said, stopping his scrolling and looking over at Alex seriously now, letting his phone fall to his side. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching Alex look everywhere but him.

"Well, y'know, for everything? Just, I guess for being you, and helping me wake up in the morning and get through the day, all that stuff. I know it can't, like, be easy to live with me, and you're always so, like, fucking patient? I, uh--,"

George let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. His face was more flushed than usual.

"Alex, you don't need to thank me for, for being your mate."

"No, I do need to, 'cause--,"

"If you start sprouting that bullshit again-- Al, I don't wake you up and drag you out of bed every morning. I don't spoon feed you your meals, or film your videos for you. Of course you're not easy to live with, but that's because you sometimes leave the fridge open or play the telly too loud, not because you're _you_." George was looking at him earnestly, sitting at the edge of his bed with his foot raising and falling rapidly. Alex didn't need to be looking back to be able to tell.

But he still didn't look up, because Alex could feel his throat restricting and vision blur. He was determined to not start crying, not even let out as much as a sniffle. "But, George. I, I'm able to get up 'cause..." Alex paused, tugging at his sleeves as he thought about the effects of his next words. "'Cause of you. I wake up in the morning, and sometimes I'm so scared that I, I feel trapped in my own fucking bed. But then I hear you walking around and I feel... feel grounded. Excited for the day, for the possibilities."

Alex sniffled, wiping his nose. "I love shopping with you, filming videos with you... all of these things that usually terrify me, you make them fun again. I..."

He let out a strangled breath, letting his mind catch up with his mouth. A few more words, and be may have started spilling secrets he had hardly begun to indulge in himself, thoughts fantasizing about care-free kisses and _actually_ cuddling on the couch.

"Well, then it's my turn, yeah?" George whispered above. 

Alex gradually raised his head. George was hardly sitting on his bed anymore, rather, he looked ready to leap off. Alex didn't notice, but George's eyes continued to flick from Alex's welled up eyes to his tear-stained cheeks. He bit the inside of his cheek and kept a hand on his bouncing leg, as if physically restraining himself from getting up and wiping away Alex's tears.

"What'd you mean?" Alex slurred together, puzzlement pulling his eyebrows together.

"Just," George smiled, "if you're going to thank me, I gotta thank you too."

Alex still didn't understand, and shook his head. "I don't..."

"Everything you said I do for you... you do it for me too, Al. Yeah, I'm not anxious like you are, but I-I literally can't imagine how weird life would be without you around. God, I don't, I don't _want_ to imagine it."

George shook his head, eyes set. "I don't even want to imagine it."

Alex let himself be swept away by George's words, even allowing himself to be hopeful for the next moment that was sure to screw up the evening.

He rose from the chair and closed the short distance from where he previously sat to the edge of the bed, where George was watching him carefully. He quickly sat down next to George, their elbows brushing each other.

Alex could still feel the lump situated in his throat, ready to burst at any given moment. Instead, in an act that mirrored their time at the telly this morning, Alex lowered his head onto George's shoulder, who immediately wrapped an arm around Alex's shoulder.

But Alex realized he wanted to be closer. And damnit, cuddling up to George was usually enough to dispel the complicated, mushy feelings. He was usually more than happy to cap off at a platonic level of intimacy; friendly hugs, sharing clothes, casual cuddling, hands fixing each other's hair, accidentally falling asleep together and waking to find George holding onto him... 

So perhaps not completely platonic. Yet Alex's desire to surge forward, rid the distance between their lips and fall back against the bed, was never as strong as it was now. 

He dug his head deeper into George, wanting his thoughts to both go away and travel directly into George's brain. 

_'No, you absolutely do not want that.'_ He reminded himself. _'If George finds out that you've been thinking of him that way, it'll be the last fucking straw--,'_

"I can feel you thinking, you know." George spoke above.

"No y'can't." Alex's voice came out muffled.

"No, but I can feel your eyebrows furrowing together, and I'd bet your face is all screwed up like usual when you're overthinking something." George commented casually, nudging Alex to get him off his shoulder.

When Alex sat up to face George uncertainly, George let out a small laugh. "Knew it."

Alex couldn't help it--he giggled and rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, Andrews."

George seemed satisfied with Alex's response, but after a few seconds his face morphed into a more solemn expression. "I thought today ended up being pretty chill?"

Alex nodded earnestly, and then began to shake his head. "No, yeah, it was! It's just something else on my mind I guess."

"Wanna tell me?"

Without missing a beat, Alex opened his mouth. "You'll kick me out."

Apparently, that was the last thing George expected Alex to say, as he began laughing incredulously. When Alex didn't laugh along with him, he stared at him in disbelief, an eyebrow raised and mouth hanging open. "Huh? Alex, that's ridiculous. I'm not--," He looked partially exasperated, like he couldn't articulate his thoughts they way he wanted to. Much to Alex's surprise, George grabbed his hand with his own and squeezed delicately; that was enough to put the matter at ease.

Alex couldn't remove his eyes from their intwined hands. He swallowed thickly, relishing in the warmth that swept through his body, starting from his fingertips. He couldn't keep it inside, couldn't bear the secret alone anymore. 

"Promise you won't get, uh, mad or anything?" Alex spoke so lowly, George had to lean in closer to hear.

"Promise."

Alex tried to steady his breathing (breathe in, one, two, three, four, hold... breathe out one), readying himself to launch up and run from the room when George started to yell, scream, or throw up.

Despite the fear crawling through his skin, Alex managed to look George in the eyes, eyes filled with worry, uncertainty, hope, and a bit of love (although perhaps Alex was only seeing what he wanted to see).

"George, I..." He took another deep breath. "I, uh, wannakissyou."

George blinked and looked Alex up and down, his breathing labored. "What... what'd you say?"

"I think I want to kiss you."

Alex expected George to draw back rapidly, to leap off the bed and call Joe to spend the night there, anywhere but Alex. Alex was so tempted to run first, to beat him to the punch, but he stayed glued to the bed. Eyes glued to George a few inches from him.

Going against everything Alex had ever predicted, George leaned forward, crowding into Alex's space with a small, nervous smile. "You think? Or you know?"

"I-I know." Alex stuttered out, mind foggy with their proximity. The anxiousness previously overflowing within morphed into excitement and anticipation and George.

George brought up a hand to cup Alex's cheek, softly running his thumb against his jaw. Alex almost fucking whimpered like the simp he was, but he knew he would never hear the end of it.

A few seconds passed by. Before Alex lost his patience, George spoke softly. "Can I kiss you?"

Alex, whose cheeks were the only evidence he had ever been upset to the point of tears a few minutes ago, dipped his head back and laughed. George, looking offended but fond, went to remove his hand from it's rightful place against Alex's jaw, but Alex put his hand over it and composed himself.

"How fucking rude, Alex." George spiffed out, grinning beautifully.

"I already told you I wanted... why'd you ask?" Alex asked, leaning into George's palm.

"Romantic, 'innit?" George mumbled, and before Alex could argue, he finally closed the rest of the distance and connected their lips.

Alex would agree with anything George said if that meant he would never stop kissing him-- it was simply lovely, the way George held Alex in his hands, kissing him softly but purposefully. Alex wanted to sink down into the bed and fold into each other until they became one big kissing unity, and almost followed through until George slowly disconnected their lips.

"Huh?" Alex asked incoherently, his eyes glazed over but eyebrows narrowed in confusion. Like a flip of a switch, Alex's insides began to bubble in fear, mind jumping to anything it could hold on to to explain why George was no longer kissing him.

George bit his lip and dived back into Alex's space to kiss him for a few seconds, before pulling back again. "Alex, I..." George tilted his face away from Alex. "Fuck, I--,"

"No, it's okay. I shouldn't have, y'know." Alex rubbed his arm uncomfortably. He was so fucking confused and distraught; he thought George was into it, fuck, if he wasn't he certainly put on a show. Alex wanted to run and hit him at the same time.

"Wait, no, shit Alex, that's not what I'm saying!" George rushed out, turning back to Alex and shaking his head quickly. "I'm trying to say that I liked it."

"Oh." Alex breathed. "So you... why'd we, y'know," Alex cleared his throat, blushing slightly. "Why'd we stop then?"

The smile on George's face dampened. "I, okay, uh. I want to kiss you."

Alex waited for him to continue. "I want to kiss you too?" 

George laughed and wiped his face with his hand. "I'm saying I want to kiss you _all_ the time. Right now, but also tomorrow morning before breakfast and during the day when we're editing videos and before going to sleep. I've never liked blokes before, but I really fucking like you, Alex." George ducked his head and scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry if that's weird to hear."

Alex was short-circuiting, replaying George's words in his mind over and over again. What was George saying, that he like-liked Alex? Like a fucking ten year old with a crush? The way Alex realized he liked George, crush and all?

"You do? Like, you really do?" Alex asked, needing confirmation. His eyes were shining as they searched George's.

George nodded, chuckling nervously. "I can't believe it either."

Alex sat back, completely stupefied. His mind was racing with a variety of thoughts, ranging from wondering _'what the fuck does this mean for us_?' to ' _how does he like me, despite everything?'_.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Al, er, Alex." George said, breaking Alex's stream of thoughts. "I wasn't ever going to tell you, but then you said you wanted to kiss me, so I thought--,"

"Are you kidding?" Alex said, putting a hand on George's knee. George quickly looked down at it and then back to Alex, endearingly confused. "Obviously I feel the same way?"

"What the fuck do you mean, obviously?" George yelled, a wide smile on his face. "You were just sitting in silence as I poured my heart out to you, you fucker!"

Alex laughed loudly, falling forward into George and pushing them both to fall against it. George let out a small grunt as he fell, laughing along with Alex. 

They cuddled up to each other, George dutifully wrapping his arms around Alex's small frame and bringing him closer, to rest upon his chest. Alex snuggled into George's sweatshirt, closing his eyes and smiling with content as he listened to the steady thrum of George's heart. 

"I'm really glad I got out of bed this morning." Alex mumbled, thinking back to how difficult and impossible the day seemed hours before. The contrast in his feelings was astounding, and while his days usually turned out better than he anticipated, the events of today were impossible to predict. 

"Me too." George whispered back. Alex felt George's fingers thread through his hair. 

Wrapped up in George, knowing he could detach from him to steal a kiss and easily settle back into the atmosphere of peace they had created, Alex couldn't think of a single thing that would stop him from wanting to get up in the morning.

So, Alex knew he would get up the next morning. And the next, and the day after that. Because despite the uncertainty and nauseating nervousness that was bound to come back, getting out of bed was always worth it. Always. Even if he needed a little help from George to remember now and then.

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading this rant! was a bit different than usual but i had a really good time writing it!! things are kind of sucky in general right now, but remember that things always have a way of working out <3<3
> 
> i'm on tumblr !! @asimplekalzone, say hi!


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